


All It Took Was A Little Push

by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Earth, Elements, Ficlet, Fire, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Old Souls, Water, Wind - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock/pseuds/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two old souls, destined to meet over and over, need a little push to finally join.  Where Sherlock and John have old souls, and the Elements decide it's past time for the souls to intertwine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All It Took Was A Little Push

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbetaed.
> 
> I needed to write something fluffy after Approaching Dissolution. This short little ficlet came out of nowhere.

Rain drops fall, softly pitter pattering against the window panes. The Wind sighs against the sides of 221B, offering a gentle push to the two men who live within its walls. They sit, each seemingly oblivious to the other, in front of the banked Fire. It crackles low, murmuring in sparks and glows, a secret love song.

The Elements, they know. They have watched these two men bond, drawn to each other as the proverbial moth is to a flame. They have seen the air crackle, electric between the blonde man and his fae eyed friend. The Elements have held their breath in those moments, waiting for the spark to ignite.  

And the Earth sighs in frustration, a low rumble of the plates barely felt, when they turn away, ignoring what is so obvious right in front of them. The men wonder why the Wind howls and beats against the windows, as if a frustrated banshee, when it had been so calm earlier in the day. They shake off their Rain drenched coats, from the storm that had just popped up out of nowhere, cursing their luck. And when the Fire refuses to offer them the warmth they need after the cursed storm, they ponder why.

Water, Wind, Fire, and Earth talk.  Murmurs of the ocean waves, whispers in the breeze, a rustle of leaves, crackling of embers in the night, discussing the fate of these two particular souls. In each age, these two souls meet, and in every age they always come close, so close. Every child of Gaia knows the distinct pattern of these two old souls. Sometimes the bodies are both male, sometimes both female, and sometimes one of each. The bodies do not matter, it’s the small ball of stardust and essence of souls contained within. It is past time for these two spirits to intertwine. A plan is made.

So the Wind offers her gentle push, Water plays his gentle rhythm, Fire sings his secret love song, and Earth offers up her gentle vibrations. Tonight the Elements hope that finally, finally two souls become one.

 

* * *

 

There is something in the air tonight. Both John and Sherlock can feel it, though neither speaks of it. There is something in the way the wind and rain play against the windows, the low light and crackling of the fire, almost a humming around them that they can’t hear or feel, but can sense beneath their feet. It is beyond distracting. John has reread the same paragraph in the paper so many times he’s lost count. Sherlock has played the same simple melody over and over, the notes blending into the sounds outside. John finally folds his paper and sighs. “Tea?” he asks. Sherlock nods and begins to put away his violin.

The tasks take very little time at all in the grand scheme of things. John picks up the mugs and turns to walk back into the living area, unaware that his flatmate had assumed tea would be had in the kitchen. There is a commotion as the two men collide, tea mugs smashing to the floor, tea seeps, burning hot through shirts, and “Oh shits” combined with “I’m so sorrys” are exclaimed.  Each man begins to shed their soiled clothes until both men are standing bare chested, jumper, undershirt, jacket and button down shirt on the floor.  Sherlock’s pale skin is pink where the scalding liquid managed to make it through, John’s tan chest heaves in apologetic gasps. “Here! Let me see!” he exclaims, the pads of his fingers examining the flushed areas.  

Sherlock suppresses a shiver as those calloused fingers brush lightly over his exposed skin. A new blush appears across Sherlock’s chest and cheeks. John’s hands still as he notices. The shorter man looks up and their eyes meet. Both men inhale sharply. The air crackles. They exhale and the spark ignites. John pulls Sherlock into a kiss, lips pushing, playing at the younger man’s mouth. Sherlock returns the kiss fervently. Never has either man felt this, this intense need to mingle and meld with another human being. They can never get close enough, but they will die trying. Upon this shocking realization, Sherlock exhales the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, John gasps, breathing in the air, and the two souls finally touch.

The Fire roars to life, the Wind swirls in a happy dance, the Rain beats an ecstatic rhythm, and the Earth rumbles joyously as the Elements celebrate.


End file.
